Tethys – Growing The Tribe Pt. 07

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Tethys, Growing the Tribe, Part 7
This is the final installment of the current series of adventures as told to me by my friend Tethys.It's late summer, 2019, and we'll try to wrap up as many loose ends as possible.But, Tethys retains the right to continue her story whenever she want to!
Songs of Love
Carl and I are showered and shaved, the sheets are freshly changed, and I lay atop him in the August heat. His cock is deeply embedded inside me, but it's resting here, just enough movement between the two of us to keep it firm and inserted. It's not going to be a passionate fuck, but a relaxing one. Neither of us has any need to cum. I just like the warm and satisfying feeling of it taking up the empty space inside my no longer lonely pussy.
"So," I ask idly, stroking the top of his smooth bronze scalp, "was today a good day for you?"
"Fantastic!" he chuckles. "I got all the boxes ticked off, without ticking anyone else off. I got my sloppy seconds, I had a good training session with three beautiful and sexy young women, several fabulous fucks with several fabulous gals, a good time at the lake with an enthusiastic audience, plenty to eat, and a couple of nice new friends. I've been a nudist for years, but I've been enjoying it a helluva lot more lately."
"I agree with all that except for one point," I correct him. "Those are MY sloppy seconds."
"Conceded," he smiles.
"You've been fucking a lot more women lately," I muse, genuinely curious. "And a lot more often. Are you feeling depleted? Hornier? Used up? Increased capacity? I worry that all my guys might be getting overwhelmed by all these demanding horny women coming into their lives. Seriously, I'm not joking. I'm hornier than I've ever been. It's like I'm on a honeymoon constantly. I'm getting fucked multiple times a day, and having multiple orgasms. But I'm not getting sore, and I'm not getting tired of it. I'm wanting it even more. And then Megan and Sonia are doing the same thing! You haven't fucked Hera yet but she's insatiable, and Joanne can't get enough of you sometimes… are you sure you can keep up with the demand? I feel like we need to bring another guy into the group to keep you and Taylor especially, from getting overwhelmed, since you two are shouldering the majority of the load."
"I'm fine," he assures me. "Although I don't think it's our shoulders that are being challenged. But when I go on tour with Sonia, Taylor might have it even rougher, so you may have to bring in another guy for his sake. But you know, I might feel sexually deprived if I'm only fucking one woman for a couple of months."
I snicker. "I doubt that. Sonia will bring her A-game. Without Henri's giant cock to fill her she might be hungrier than you can imagine."
"I hope Henri's giant cock has more opportunity to make you happy without her keeping him from you," he answers with surprising sincerity.
"You want me to send you pictures of that giant cock ramming inside me and filling me with cum?" I start to move on him a little more energetically as the vision inspires me.
"You know I do," he says. "You know you're going to want me pushing all that cum out of you with my cock, and flushing it out with my own cum. You're going to wish I was there to do it."
I take back what I said about having no need to cum. The excitement is building in me, as is the moisture. I don't take back what I said about wanting even more sex. The more I'm getting, the more I'm wanting. And not just any sex. Deep fucking with big hard hot cocks. Carl and Taylor and Henri and Joe. I want them all to fuck me. Daily. Multiple times daily. Sequentially. Like porn stars. Like I'm a porn star. Goddam it, I want to gang bang all those bastards. I'm feeling so fucking selfish. Four guys, with five women that demand frequent satisfaction. When Carl and Sonia leave it with be three for four. Can the guys keep up? Carl thinks he can. He's in his prime. Taylor? He hasn't complained yet. Henri? He hasn't fucked any of us nearly often enough. Maybe if he shoved that huge snake inside me more often I'd finally get sore. But I'm only getting it about once a week from him now. He's going to have to step up. And Joe? He's in his forties, fer cryin' out loud. I'm amazed by the volume, sweetness, and frequency of his ejaculations so far, but he's got to be working on borrowed time. He must have been one amazing specimen in his prime, though. There's no doubt left in my mind. We're going to have to add another very horny, very high-endurance, very open-minded, very fit, and very physically beautifully-shafted male to our bevy. It will be easier said than done. That's a project for future consideration.
The idea drives me even further into the desire side of the spectrum. One more orgasm can't hurt, can it? Damn, am I a freak of nature? Is everyone in this tribe a freak? Why do I need to cum so often? Why do I need to fuck so often? Why do I need so many cocks? I think of all the wives I know who are perfectly happy with their one man, their two to three times a week sexual 'interludes', which may occupy ten minutes of their evenings. I would go insane. But maybe I already am. I need this. I need to be fucked. I need to be fucked abundantly, frequently, repeatedly, with large, hard, hot, meaty, multiple cocks, with lots of sticky, sweet, salty, musky semen, filled with pheromones and endorphins. I need my orgasms. I need the orgasms of others. I need other women's orgasms. But I especially need the orgasms of men. I need their sweet, sweet nectar. What is wrong with women who need less? What is wrong with me?
I lift my shoulders off of Carl to allow me to drive my weight down on his cock. He's smiling at me, knowing my need, happy to fill it. He tenses his hip, thrusting just slightly into me while I do most of the work, bouncing needily up and down on him. I'm slippery and wet, but as tight as I want to be, as my cunt muscles squeeze and knead Carl's willing flesh. My clit presses down with each impact onto his fleshy smooth pubic mound. I can smell my juices permeating the room. We were so clean, now my cunt juice is the only aroma. I scream out my orgasm, after having so many I'm still surprised to cum so intensely, so desperately. Again I wonder if there is something wrong with me to make me react this way. But the thought of me being a sick, helpless, pathological slut just makes me cum even harder. If that's who I am, then I accept my addiction. And now I'm getting my fix. I'll need another soon.
I let myself calm down while my pussy relaxes around his shaft. One orgasm should be enough for now. No reason to be selfish. Carl is nowhere near cumming himself. He's not quite as controlled as Taylor and Joe, but he's getting much better at it. I remember earlier today Joanne told Megan to "keep practicing" in her attempts to deep throat Carl. Megan's not here now, but I realized I haven't practiced that much lately. I've been so obsessed with getting my pussy filled, and those of my friends, that I've been tasting all my cum second hand. I want to get to the primary source tonight.
I pull up and Carl's cock bounces free. It doesn't flop or fall, it's still rock hard and straight as a tree trunk. Or a rocket. It's wet. Slimy. Sticky. Shiny. Beautiful. I snuggle up to him and rest my head on his belly. I know he'll want to lick my cunt while I suck him, he enjoys 69 almost as much as sloppy seconds. But not now. I want no distractions. I want to savor him, to lovingly experience every detail of this unique, shapely, pretty cock, to work my tongue between glans and foreskin, to feel every rippling vein, every pebbly texture, to study the slitted exit orifice at the tip, the source of the creamy fluid I love so much. I want to squeeze it between my lips and tongue, to feel the soft, pliable and loose skin on the surface, and how it slides back and forth over the firmer, unseen but substantial flesh below, I want to map those subsurface structures with all my senses, my eyes, my fingers, my tongue, and my lips. My ears? Can I hear the blood rushing through those excited vessels? I put my ear to his shaft and listen, moving it slowly over every inch. He chuckles, but whimpers at the unfamiliar yet enticing sensation. I do hear the pulse. I feel the pulse in my mouth as I plunge onto it. And yes, I can deep throat Carl. Just as easily as Joanne can. Megan definitely needs more practice. I'll help her get it. But not tonight. Tonight he's mine.
My thoughts have not been of pleasing Carl. They've been of entertaining myself, of experiencing the manly equipment he offers me. I'm totally selfish. But it seems not to matter. My selfishness turns him on, and I'm feeling that flesh strain as I roll it around in my mouth. A few more strokes and… yes, it gives me what I want. I had almost forgotten how much I crave this taste, this texture, this aroma. It's a bouquet of many flavors, heady as a strong wine, but not chilled. Fruity, tangy, musky, earthy, salty, tingly' like warm seasoned butter, like the best of both mayonnaise and Miracle Whip. So many tastes in every slippery drop. The palette passes behind my palate, up into my sinuses from behind, clearing them out like a strong pepper spice. The liquid wants to come up and out my nose as well, but I keep it in as pulse after pulse gushes into my mouth. I don't want to swallow, I want to let the taste percolate on my tongue. It feels heavenly.
I finally swallow it all down, and shift my snuggling up to Carl's muscular chest as he wraps his arms around me. "I love you," I confess as I feel the warmth of his body and listen to the beating of his heart below my ear. He's already asleep. I follow soon after.
Sunday morning and I'm starving. There's no need to rush to get to Joe and Jo's house, there's plenty of time for a generous breakfast. And there's plenty of time to talk while we eat. One of many positive outcomes of Carl now having multiple women to fuck, who want to fuck him, and who make him feel desired and beautiful, is that the reticence with which I've had to deal with for two years is rapidly disappearing. He talks more, more openly, and even, it seems, more intelligently about things I would have never thought him interested in before. Breakfast talk is almost like pillow talk. And it's interesting talk. It's still primarily about topics like weight training, coaching, fitness, and of course, women and fucking, but these are topics I enjoy as well. The time flies, and by the time we're done I know we won't be excessively punctual when we arrive at the party house.
Joe and Joanne Hill have made it emphatically clear that we are not to bring anything to the party. No beer, no drinks, no food. "Bring only yourselves and your desires," Jo told us. We take her at her word. After yesterday's successful adventure of driving naked to the lake, I decide to take the risk once more. When we head to the Jeep, we're both naked. I'm not even bringing shoes this time. Carl brings his wallet with his driver's license. We have our phones.
We have written directions to the house, as well as GPS on the Maps app, so we aren't too worried about getting lost. It's a beautiful neighborhood, an older subdivision in the Balcones Park area near Mount Bonnell on what used to be Austin's west side. It's across town, but we have plenty of gas and the traffic isn't too bad. Being Sunday, we pass a few well-dressed church-goers, and giggle at how they contrast with our nakedness. We get there with no difficultly, and park on the sidewalk in front of the house, as the driveway is already occupied. We notice Sonia's BMW already here, as well as Megan's little Ford.
We feel just a bit exposed stepping out of the Jeep naked onto the street and sidewalk, but fortunately there is a lull in traffic and no one in sight outside for a moment, so we hurry across the front yard to the house. We ring the doorbell and Joanne, fortunately as naked as we are, ushers us in. Mimi and Ray hug us as we enter, and I make a beeline to Henri as soon as I see him, wanting to feel that huge cock rub against my crotch as I give him a hello squeeze.
"Tethys, you brighten the room when you walk in, I'm so happy to see you!" he smiles with his usual golden voice. I immediately feel a spot of wetness, and I know Henri is sincere about being happy to see me, since I can feel his manhood extend and tighten with our contact.
Megan is naked too, although not looking quite as comfortable as usual. She is standing beside her mother, who is equally uncomfortable looking, and completely dressed.
"Tethys, this is Rena, my mom," Megan's voice quavers a little as she introduces us. Rena takes my hand.
"Tethys. Megan has told me all about you. You're the one who introduced her to all… this."
It sounds like an accusation, although I can't be completely sure it's not just a trick of the general tension. Part of me wants to run away and put as much distance between us as possible, and part of me wants to sit down with her and offer her a long detailed explanation as to why this is the best lifestyle for all of us in this particular group. I simply smile and say "Megan is such a joy to know, and such a wonderful person. You did a superb job raising her." I hope it helps. Rena smiles and nods for a moment.
Joanne is happy to rescue me by offering me a tour of the house. It's nicely laid out on the inside, not huge but comfortable, with four bedrooms, three baths, and a massive kitchen and den. The back yard is gorgeous. There's a patio with a pool on the far edge, which then drops down to a steeply sloped yard surrounded by a concrete wall. It's completely private, sunny, and inviting. I can see why they chose it. It's the kind of place you'd never need to wear clothes in or outside.
I notice a lack of art on the walls indoors, and the thought strikes me that perhaps they'd like a couple of my paintings. I decide to hold the thought for later.
Not too long after the crowd grows as Hera and Taylor arrive. But not just Hera and Taylor. True to her word, she has brought along Phoebe, her mother, and her father, who I've never seen before. He looks professorial, less than average height, thin, bespectacled, with somewhat rumpled gray hair, a gray mustache, and of all things, a tweed jacket. He introduces himself as Herakles.
"Herakles?" I ask. "Is that why you named her Hera? Is she named after you?"
"That would be an irony for the mythology," he laughs softly. "Originally, Hera was a sort of stepmother and then mother in law to Heracles, but she always hated him and wanted him dead. But even the Greeks were known to evolve their mythology to keep up with changing times, so it seems fitting in this almost reversed culture to invert the relationship. THIS Herakles is Hera's father and loves her dearly. And our Hera is not jealous and vindictive, but loving, kind, erotic, inclusive and passionate."
"She is all that!" I agree. "I'm sure you're part of the reason for who she is. I've been hoping to meet you."
"Thank you," he smiles. "But I'm not sure either one of us is the reason. She's been her own person since she was born. The determination to be nude, and the vast scope of her sexually intense eroticism is her own. Phoebe never started talking about the Goddess, and was never much into erotica until Hera kind of overwhelmed us with it. I think it's her way of dealing with the wonder and confusion."
"She's become Hera's biggest fan!" I laugh. "And we love having her around. I'm grateful that you share her with us."
He shakes his head, smiling. "It's not my doing. I'm just riding the wave, trying to keep my head above water. But in a way, I am proud of both of them. I'm glad they've found this supportive little tribe, as I'm told you refer to it. I hope it doesn't turn out to be a cult!"
"Me too!" I agree. My thought is that Phoebe may be the one we need to caution about that.
Hera and Phoebe introduce themselves to our hosts and spend some time making small talk. Megan takes advantage of Taylor's arrival. Once he's safely undressed and has gotten through his initial greetings, she intercepts him and grasps him firmly by the cock. With a smile, she begins to squeeze and pull until it responds to her liking. His own smile is a bit befuddled, not sure what she has in mind. Now that he's the size and shape she's looking for, she holds him firmly by what is now a love handle in every sense of the word, and leads him by it across the room to introduce him to her mother.
"Mom, this is Taylor. He's Tethys' boyfriend. It was Tethys and Taylor who inspired me to go for what I really want to do."
Taylor and Rena exchange a rather awkward handshake, Megan still clamping her fingers on his cock, which remains mostly expanded. Rena is making an effort not to look at it.
"Mom, this is not the thing you were worried about," Megan continues. "Nobody's hurting me or abusing me. This is my choice. I'm going to be a nudist and I'm going to be fucking the people in this group, because I love them and they love me and I love to fuck. These are the people I want to be with. I'm going to be fucking Taylor in this house, or maybe out at the pool, where everybody can watch. You can watch too, Mom. I hope you do. Hera's mom watches her fuck, and it's amazing. I didn't say making love, and I didn't say having sex, even though I'm doing both of those things too. But what I'm doing specifically is fucking. I don't want to use euphemisms for it. It's fucking. Period. I'm going to have this cock right here…" she gestures with her free hand to make sure her mother does look, "inside me, and I'm going to be sliding it in and out and I'm going to be wet and having orgasms all over it, and he's going to be blasting his cum inside me. That's just something you're going to have to accept. But what I really hope is that you don't just accept it, but embrace it, and that you're happy for me."
Rena doesn't look happy at the moment, but she does seem resigned, and Megan is soon off again. She doesn't plan to monopolize Taylor's time, and for now, she joins Hera in getting more acquainted with Henri and his monster. Part of me feels a little disappointed for all three, Henri is a wonderful person with many fantastic qualities, but these two girls seem most interested in only the full frontal one. I had grown up with the myth that a woman should be first and foremost interested in a man's character, that any physical attributes are secondary. When I was Megan and Hera's age, I still accepted that, although it had always been a difficult struggle, but I had also found that every man I took interest in turned out to have some pretty serious shortcomings in the character department. When I first saw Carl that day at Hippie Hollow, I was drawn exclusively to his physical attributes — his frame, his muscles, and that uniquely spectacular cock, but ironically, what began as a physical-only friends-with-benefits scenario grew into something wonderfully complete, as he turned out to be a man I could trust and truly care for.
Still, I can't blame Megan and Hera, Henri's massive cock truly is a sight to behold, as well as being fun to hold, and Hera's mother seems smitten by it as well. Hopefully, someday they'll get to know him better, and his beautiful sexual equipment, and the beautiful sex that he enables with it, will lead them to seeing the rest of his attractive character traits. In the meantime, he doesn't seem bothered by their attention, and his swollen extended anaconda is providing them with a new world of fascination. They're going to be challenged to fit the whole thing inside them, and I know they're going to want to try.
Despite the initial playfulness and exploration, there's a remarkable absence of intense sex occurring for a while. We spend most of the afternoon lounging around either inside or on the terrace around the pool. We come and go freely back and forth, with a lot of swimming and splashing, some relaxed sunning, a bit of snacking and a lot of good conversation.

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